The Lad with the Green Eyes
by bxk-freakazoid
Summary: (inspired from the Girl with the Pearl Earring) All that the rich heir has is his wealth, his mother-like warden and his art. The one thing that's missing left him ruthlessly so long ago. When winter comes, can spring be far behind? (AU)


**Hello!**

 **this fic, also from Book Imagica, is inspired loosely from the story of Girl With the Pearl Earring. it was also a movie based on a story based on a painting of the same name :P**

 **i think you guys know where this story is going if you know THAT story :P**

 **i know i shouldnt be starting new stories when i havent even finished the ones ive started (waves finger at self. baaad bxkfreaky!) but yeah i think thisll set things in motion!**

 **ok here goes!**

 **its AU, set in old days. no Omnitrix and stuff.**

 **disclaimer : i donot own Ben Ten or any following franchise series! im only one very delusional fan :)**

 **warning : boy on boy action. contains mature themes! read at you own risk! or pleasure! whichever rocks your boat :)**

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 **THE LAD WITH THE GREEN EYES**

 **Chapter one : The Monotony of Kevin Levinthius**

He dipped his long brush in the fresh green paint. Slowly, in a lethargic pace, he drew it closer to his bright and empty canvas. Softly, he pressed it to the textured surface... and took his hand away.

He stared, dismal, at the oblong blob of his favourite hue sit sad and alone on the vast white surface of the canvas.

Sadly it spoke to him. And he heard it.

Dropping a sufferable but silent sigh, he rose, placing his brush aside and walked away from his grotto of paints and masterpieces.

Kevin Levinthius needed a walk, and so he went.

He hoped he didnt have to pass his living room but that was as good as in his hopes -

"Mater Levinthius? Where are you going?" a stern voice broke the silence. Kevin did not require to turn and see who the owner of the stern voice was.

He shrugged and lifted his mahogany eyes at his warden Madame Gwendolyn, a lady twice his age but visually ten years younger.

Madame Gwendolyn's olive green eyes peered at him through spotless glasses. She closed the book she was reading and set it on her lap. "Well?"

Kevin turned his gaze to the entrance porch where stood the large rosewood door, a handsome artistic piece, framed and regal.

"You can't be thinking of going outside, now are you! You know how the doctor advised against it. Goodness, you do not need more people fawning over you to a point they attack you and strangle you!" Madame Gwendolyn scolded. But then she stopped, seeing his wilted face, without inspiration and purpose. Defeated and dejected.

She sighed and got up from her seat, placing her leather bound tome aside. Soon, Kevin felt warm hands encircle him into a motherly embrace as soothing words spoke to him, "Master, I know personally that all you would need is a nice walk into the woods or a stroll along a park. But you do know what had happened the last time you set foot out of the mansion."

Kevin's brown eyes twitched.

He distinctly remembered. Hands. voices, screaming, shouting, questions, flashes. Questions. QUESTIONS.

It was like a nauseating nightmare.

Kevin pulled back. His hands rose and moved in gestures.

The lady looked thoughtful. "The backyard. Yes, that would suffice I think. There is a lovely orchard there you always liked to wander in. And the moor behind, but I don't see that safe, atleast not after that lunatic jumped in through the barbed wire and attacked you."

Kevin shuddered. That had been too much for him as well.

Madame Gwendolyn smiled in good nature. "Alright, off you go then. But don't wander off. Ill send in one of the servants if you do not return after an hour or so."

Kevin hands frantically animated themselves again.

"Yes, yes, I know you are twenty five and I know you are no child," the elderly lady shook her head of bright red hair and set her olive eyes on him, "The orchard is very much safe but please, Master, be careful!"

Kevin nodded. She watched him turn away and head towards the kitchen though which he could go to the orchards. His pace regal but melancholy. Monotonous, even.

Madame Gwendolyn sighed sadly. _Poor soul. So young and so much pain._

0.0.0

Kevin Lenvinthius' life was strife with betrayal. His father, a rich man, having an affair with a young mistress from beyond the sea, died of poisoning by Kevin's mother driven wild by the affair, when she herself had fallen for a man whom she refused to court solely for her matrimony to her husband. Shortly she killed herself as well.

And left behind in this blood bath of a family was Kevin, a young child of barely ten, who was immediately adopted by Madame Gwedolyn, Kevin's mother's much older sister who was biologically incapable of having children. Ever since then, the unmarried warden and the young boy lived in that luxurious mansion. All the wealth left behind by the parents were Kevin's to use and he did, when he reached of age at which Madame Gwendolyn explained to him all the responsibility she had been managing until then. He was the heir of a large company that made and sold furniture of the best quality and he had made and was making enough to sustain several generations to come. He blossomed as a young learning entrepreneur under Madame.

Kevin had a natural affliction for art, which Madame Gwendolyn had sharply observed, and she left no stone upturned in encouraging his talents. Soon, at a young age, Kevin became a household name in his country; his masterpieces selling one after the other. The Madame had the carpenters dedicate an arts studio for him near his room, what he called his 'grotto', solely for the purpose of indulging in his godly gift of capturing the world around him. Art and painting became the happiness of his life.

And then came love. And with it came more betrayal.

The apples of the orchards caught the light of the sun in beautiful globules of shimmer. Kevin smiled slightly. Nature was infinitely beautiful, beyond his comprehension and no matter how much he tried, he was always short of depicting its actual glory, although many people beg to differ.

The large orchard was a sight in the afternoon. He was surrounded by green. The many tones, hints, hues of green imaginable, all laid before him like a buffet; he loved green. Madame Gwendolyn had olive green eyes, and he knew he took to her as a child because of that, for she was a stern lady who scared him when he first saw her, but her olive green eyes soothed him. And then soon he had a new mother to look up to. One he loved beyond compare.

But the green that really stirred his heart and fired his soul was a rich emerald he rarely spotted amidst he myriad of varieties in vegetation. That one hue of rich green that made his knees weak. The very same colour he prepared the paint of in his grotto and tried to paint with to start, but even that could not feed his painting, due to his lack of inspiration. Lately, he had been feeling barren, empty, without purpose. It was like a curse put on his hands; he could paint naught.

The events from a year ago were to blame but it has been too long to be drowning in pain anymore. It has been too long.

 _\- End of Chapter -_

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 **gonna try and keep this simple. just a simple story of love and happiness :) just something to get out of my chest.**

 **hope you guys like it!**

 **reviews are so very welcome!**


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